


Missing You

by jaswritesbad



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Gen, Rachel is actually nice, Sad, i hurt kurt bad, im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaswritesbad/pseuds/jaswritesbad
Summary: Kurt finds an old sweater whilst re-organising his closet.It isn't his.Post S4 Klaine breakup
Comments: 20
Kudos: 39





	Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this cause I was bored whilst waiting at the ID office and it turned into this 881 word monster, please enjoy!

At first he hadn't even noticed it, his vision only zoned in on various hues to sort his clothes into their respective colour coded piles.

It only crossed his mind when he revised the piles, looking through them and debating things to keep or throw away, his fingers absent-mindedly latching onto the fabric.

The first thing that registered was confusion.

He didn't own anything like this, a horribly scratchy cotton yarn blend.

It took a good ten seconds for the realisation to sink in, to register who the sweater actually belonged to.

He sat on his knees, dumbfounded, caressing the rough, red material between his fingers, thumbing at a loose thread that had obviously been caught on something.

His face showed no emotion, even in the privacy of his own closet he willed himself not to crack.

He didn't want to cry, to him it felt like admitting that he still cared, that he still loved him, and that deep down the facade he'd been putting up for months was absolute and utter bullshit.

Which of course it was. He knew it was, and he knew everyone around him knew it was too.

After the break up he refused to show any signs of weakness. The only time he came close to cracking was in the darkened hallway of McKinley, when he kept following him after Grease, when he wouldn't let up. Where he couldn't escape the other boy's unrelenting pleads, trapped.

Rachel had tried to be there for him, always hovering with soft words and even softer touches, but he wouldn't let her. Couldn't let her.

He acted so _okay_ , frustratingly so, as if the boy he devoted his heart to, his first chance at freedom, the first person who made him feel safe, hadn't completely broken him.

As if his world hadn't been ripped out from under his feet, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving him to catch himself. 

He didn't notice the tears streaming down his face, or the way his digits clenched the sweater, holding on for dear life, clutching at a memory he'd never get back. 

He stared at his hands, shaking with something white hot and horrible. An anger that pulsed through him and curled in his fingertips.

But he wasn't angry at him, he was angry at himself.

For forgetting about the sweater, for letting his guard down and allowing it to get to him so bad. 

For wanting him again. 

Because even after what he did, Kurt still wanted him, and it ached so bad. 

He'd gone months without letting it bother him, week after week of pushing it to the back of his head, a constant cycle of thought and distraction because he knew if he let himself think about it for even a minute he'd crumble.

And here he was, a pathetic trembling heap on the floor, drowning in the very emotions he'd vowed to lock away, proving himself right. 

He'd been fighting every natural instinct he had, walking around in a melancholy haze, bottling up every last bit of sorrow and shoving it away for another day. Because he just couldn't handle it.

Until now.

He knew he still couldn't handle it, he knew this would fuck him up for a while, but _god_ he just needed it. Needed to indulge just this once, to get it out of his system.

So he did. 

He let himself feel. He sat keeled over, clutching the sweater to his chest, and sobbed hard, choked breathes wracking his body. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled blindly to his bed, vision blurred and eyes burning, holding onto the sweater as if it were his sole purpose in life.

He sank into the bed, burying his face in the sweater, inhaling _him_ with every broken sob, a constant ebb and flow of anguish and regret. He cried until he couldn't anymore, his unrelenting bawling slowing into hiccups. 

Exhaustion washed over him as he curled himself into a ball, still letting out the occasional sniffle as sleep dragged him under.

That's exactly how Rachel found him two hours later, puffy faced and spent, with a soft grip on the now crumpled sweater.

She let her bags slink to the floor as she moved quietly to the bed. She had been expecting this, sooner or later, she knew it was coming. He roused slightly as she softly clambered onto the bed beside him.

"I found-" He croaked as her arms came to rest around him.

"I know," She whispered into his hair.

"Blaine," he choked as he buried his face in her neck. 

She held him as he shook, squeezing him tight in assurance as dry sobs hit her neck. Her fingers stroked his hair, a repetitive circling motion for minutes on end, until his body slowed to a tremble, wrung out, the tiredness settling in his limbs again.

She watched him for a while, every puff of breathe he took tickling his mussed hair. He looked so peaceful, nothing like the agonised boy who had been quivering in her arms just ten minutes prior.

She fell asleep like that, one of Kurt's arms wound tightly round her, the other pressed between them, his hand white-knuckled gripping the red sweater.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! If you did I'd love if you left a kudos and a comment!! I love comments so I'd really appreciate hearing your guys' thoughts and even criticisms!!
> 
> love you always mwah
> 
> \- Jas


End file.
